Of Questionable Hair and Pretty Faces
by pinkpower
Summary: “I don’ see what I did wrong, t’ough,” Remy added, smirking at Wolverine. “I don’ t’ink I’ve ever stolen anyt’in’ from y’. Least, not in dis life.” Poor Gambit deals with what it's like being a new recruit for the X-Men. Implied Romy. Two shot.
1. Gambit

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**

**Just a bit of poking fun at Wolverine. Don't get me wrong though, I like him just fine.**

Remy LeBeau, standing in the middle of the late Professor Xavier's office, had been contemplating every rule that was being spat out by this Wolverine fellow. The short Canadian scowled, seeming only to be frustrated at the thief's presence. Gambit noticed those long, silver claws threatening to slide out of Logan's knuckles. He definitely wanted to slice and dice this Cajun stranger if only because he smelt like a sketchy scoundrel. Remy could only find this amusing as Wolverine growled, grinding his teeth together. He chuckled lightly, pulling out a card from the pocket in his trench coat. Raising an auburn-colored eyebrow, Gambit charged it.

"Personal space, _homme_," Remy warned, taking note that Logan's breath wasn't exactly minty-fresh. Logan backed up slowly, still glaring dangerously. "T'ank y. If y' have a problem wit' _moi_, say it."

"As a matter of fact-"

"Logan," Ororo warned, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is no time for antagonizing our new recruit. Any personal vendettas will not be resolved with violence."

"I don' see what I did wrong, t'ough," Remy added, smirking at Wolverine. "I don' t'ink I've ever stolen anyt'in' from y'. Least, not in dis life."

"I wouldn't take it personally, Gambit. Logan can demonstrate unfriendliness better than any person. Just ask Cyclops," Beast said, laughing slightly. He stood just behind Logan, worried that the tension in the room would get out of hand. He mentally questioned what reason Wolverine had for disliking this man so much. Hank would have to ask about at a more appropriate time. "Now, Mr. LeBeau, we have gone over all the rules. Do you have any questions?"

Gambit pondered this. So far, all of the rules he could live with. However, there was just _one_ thing that was never brought up. His smirk broadened, as he started tapping his index finger against the Professor's desk. "_Oui_. What is de policy on, say, datin'?"

"It's a school," Logan began, knowing exactly what Remy was getting at, "for _kids_."

"Dat doesn't answer mah question," Gambit replied, sighing in a bored fashion. "Y' can't tell _moi_ dat y don't ever have _needs_."

Logan shook his head, frustrated. "No sex. Especially for you, Gumbo."

"Dat's unreasonable. Weren't Scott an' Jean married?" Remy questioned.

"Yes." Storm answered. "Just please, keep all to a minimum, Remy. We don't need any scandals in a children's environment. It is, as Logan said, a school for kids. As far as needs go, get a hotel room," she advised.

"I can deal wit' dat," the Cajun replied, leaning on the desk.

"Anything else," Hank asked.

"_Non_. Not'ing f'r now." Remy replied, standing straight. "I already have everyt'ing settled, f'r de most part." He looked at Wolverine out of the corner of his red on black eyes.

"Our next training session in the Danger Room will be tomorrow afternoon, after lunchtime. Be on time." Wolverine said, wanting to add an _or else_ to that last part. "Clear?"

"Crystal," he retorted. Remy popped the collar on his trench coat, rolling his eyes. Would Wolverine always feel the need to be so cold? It was hardly necessary from his point of view. Not only was it uncivilized, but it felt unfair to be misjudged. He hadn't even stolen anything from the Institute yet, (not that he was planning to), and already Logan was condemning him for a crime he hadn't commit. Or maybe, he was just jealous. Because, his sideburns looked weird, and Remy's didn't.

_Dat could be it._

"If y'll excuse _moi_, I must be headin' off. It's kinda chilly in here," the Cajun thief commented, pretending to shiver. He walked toward the door, feeling a hole being mentally burnt into his back by Logan. Gambit chuckled silently to himself, hearing threats bubbling in his throat, meanwhile Remy, himself, was completely calm. And then he thought:

_Dis could be so annoyin' if it weren't already so funny._

He stepped out of the office, followed by Storm.

"Remy, I apologize for Logan's actions. He has just been tense since… Well, you know." Ororo said, afraid to meet Gambit's gaze. She figured he must being fuming inside. "Don't let him change your mind about the X-Men. Everyone isn't usually like that."

"T'ink not'in o' it, Stormy," Remy replied, grinning warmly at his friend. "I t'ink maybe I be joinin' dat party for de new recruits downstairs, _non_? De night is young. An' since I don' have a date, maybe y' want to be t'night?"

"Always the charming one, Remy, but I think I'll pass. Thank you." Ororo laughed, meeting Remy's glance. "I have work to be done. Have fun."

He chuckled, as he and Storm walked in different directions. She was a good friend to him, and almost like a sister. Remy shook his head, muttering something incoherent to himself. Obviously, he had been spending too much time in the same room with Wolverine. That had to stop. The Cajun couldn't help but find this man's choice of hairstyle a bit odd, but somewhat amusing all the same. Honestly, it reminded him a wild cat that just got into a fight with a ladybug, and lost. Gambit made a mental note to ask Logan how on Earth he got his hair that way. It should make for an interesting conversation, and with any luck, it could at least tick the Canadian off more than he already was. Then, a fight would break out, and Remy would prove himself the victor.

Remy descended from the staircase, gazing at all of the students in their different groups. They all were scattered about the room like ants spoiling a picnic. Roaring laughs rang throughout the mansion. Grimacing, Gambit just remembered that since this was, indeed, a school, that there would be no alcoholic beverages. Normally that wouldn't matter to him, just as long as there were a couple of pretty ladies around, but all these were all just a bunch of schoolgirls with giggles that made him of nails on a chalkboard. That wouldn't have been so horrible either if Remy weren't receiving questioning stares at a few. He felt out of place, which was fairly normal. Gambit never really belonged, but since this was to be his new home for the time being, he was going to find somebody equal to him to keep his sanity intact. And not just Ororo, either, but somebody with a little more time on their hands.

Remy leaned against the left corner of the wall, bored out of his ever-loving mind. He once again questioned his reasons for deciding to attend this party. Every so often, a girl would stop and stare at him as if they had never seen a person of the opposite sex from them. They would giggle and walk away. It was, needless to say, slightly bothersome, not that he could blame the young girls for thinking that he was just so damn irresistible. He had gotten used to the attention at one point during this little party.

But, no one really bothered to strike up a conversation with him. Word was apparently out about every sin and every mistake he had ever committed, with a few exceptions of his long-hidden secrets, and everyone seemed intimidated by Remy's very presence. He really shouldn't have cared so much because of his usually thick skin, but he wasn't used to having everyone hate him so fast. Okay, well. He was, but normally somebody usually had a good enough reason in their hatred. This was a little different. No one had been interested in getting to know Remy.

His red on black orbs, again, scanned the room. There wasn't really much else to do, but analyze people (just in case this hero business didn't work out). Gambit stopped, drinking in the sight of a young woman across the room, staring off into space. She wore her long, brunette hair over her shoulders with two white stripes framing her soft features. A small frown met the corner of the girl's lips as she exhaled. She was clad in a light green sweater and blue jeans.

_What a sad lookin' creature._

At last, her jade eyes met his eyes. Startled by this, the girl quickly glanced away, and in spite of herself, she looked again. Smiling this time. Remy chuckled at her, daring her to walk over to him.


	2. Rogue

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**

**Basically the same story, but with Rogue's part of the story.**

Marie stared into the cold blue orbs of Bobby Drake. Tears trickling upon his cheeks, he begged unnecessarily for her forgiveness. She could only try to comprehend the agony written all over his expression, because the words he was spouting out at her weren't really registering to her brain. The young girl could only watch him as if he were on mute, partly because Marie didn't want to hear Bobby's regretful confession. All she could really understand is her stomach churning—like drying to digest a bunch of boulders—and her heart aching for many things Marie knew she could never have; not in this lifetime.

Touch, companionship, and love.

She continued with her attempt at trying to figure out Bobby's impossible riddle, but couldn't. Perhaps it was the fact that this was Bobby Drake speaking to her—a person she would never expect to ever break her heart, because he was the only guy to give Marie the time of day; and out of some miracle, Bobby was somehow able to withstand being in a non-physical relationship with a girl whose skin was toxic.

Or so Marie thought. . .

Marie touched her exposed fingertips to her heated cheeks that were suddenly dripping with water. She inhaled deeply, wanting so much to steady the beat of her heart. What was Bobby trying to say to her? Why couldn't she make sense of it? Why did she feel unbearably ill all of a sudden?

"Rogue," he murmured gently, tears staining his eyes, "I am so sorry. It didn't—_she_ didn't mean a thing to me." Bobby took a hold of her green-sleeved wrists, and closed the distance between them.

Her emerald eyes searched for unknown clues, but then she knew—what Bobby was telling her. She squirmed out of his embrace and glowered at him. "Bobby. . . H-how could you?"

"We were caught up in the moment. I swear all of it was meaningless to me, Rogue." Bobby said.

"That doesn't change tha fact that ya slept with her!" Marie shouted as other teenagers stopped and stared at the scene in the middle of the bedroom hallway.

Bobby sighed, his body was almost trembling. "Rogue, if I could take it back I would. Please, you have to believe me!"

Marie shook her head in disbelief in disapproval of his apology. Sincere as Bobby's wish seemed, it wasn't in her power to grant it, nor could she forgive him for not having the better sense to just walk away and be faithful when Bobby had the chance. "Well, ya can't, can ya, Bobby?"

"I'm sorry, Rogue. It will never happen again. Just please, give me one more chance." Bobby was all but begging her, but just as before, his words just weren't sinking in.

"No. Bobby—Ah can't. Ya had yer chance and ya blew it. If ya really loved meh, ya would have stopped. It shouldn't have mattahed how temptin' or sexy some girl is, because ya should only evah think about meh."

"C'mon, Rogue, this isn't some fairytale!" Bobby reminded her. "I can't be Prince Charming all the time, but I _do_ want to be your boyfriend. Please?"

"It's too late f'r that." Marie replied, shutting the door in his face.

Tears poured from her hardened, jade orbs like an endless water fall. She put her head against the door, listening to her ex-boyfriend's footsteps slowly walking away from her room. A part of Marie hoped that Bobby would try one last time to convince her to be his girlfriend again—that he would actually have enough reason to beg for her mercy. Ha! What was she thinking?

Marie went to stand in front of her full-length mirror, examining her flaws. Her stomach knotted as her eyes saw nothing worth looking at, otherwise known as her disgustingly horrid reflection. It was impossible to look any longer now that Marie was reasonable terrified that the glass might shatter.

She knew inanimate objects couldn't speak, but she could almost hear the cruel words from the mirror.

_Poor, pathetic, little X-Man, _it said._ How bittah yer life must be. Maybeh if ya were some kinda lookah, ya could have some hope o' findin' love. Untouchable and ugly. _

"Marie!" Jubilee beckoned, opening the door. "C'mon, like, the welcoming party for the new recruits has already started. And omg! You should, like, totally see the hottie downstairs!"

"Jubes, Ah really don't feel up f'r it, taday," the auburn-haired girl said.

"Well, like, too bad. Look, Rogue, I really am sorry about what Bobby did to you, but. . .it was bound to happen eventually. Just come downstairs and have some fun."

After about an hour of Jubilee's non-stop persuading techniques, Marie finally marched herself downstairs, if only to escape her friend's 'likes' and 'totally.' If she couldn't be beautiful like those blond models on the covers of magazines she always saw Bobby looking at, then damn it, Rogue could at least keep her sanity intact if anything else.

She stomped into the very corner on the right side of the room. Her eyes skimmed the room for Bobby, aware of how pathetic she looked in her baggy, green sweater and blue-jeans compared to everyone wearing glamorous clothes and make-up. Marie shook her head at herself, remembering how Kitty Pryde always told her that she wished she could look as beautiful as Marie did.

It was slightly surprising that Kitty Pryde wasn't what is known as the "other girl" in this situation, or so Marie thought, but really, Kitty just wasn't the type of girl to be so sly and just plain mean. Plus, she already had a big crush on Piotr. So, whoever this stranger who Bobby slept with was a faceless stranger and would probably remain so.

Rogue crossed her arms over her chest, giving up her search Iceman.

_He wasn't all that great a boyfriend anyhow._

Marie brought her hands to her face, brushing away a few loose tears with her nails.

_Ah didn't get the curah and now Ah have ta live with mah decision._

She stared off into space, locking with somebody else's. Marie gasped lightly, and pretended to glance down at her feet, but in the corner of her eye, Marie could still see him. Her heart betrayed her better judgment when she caught a spectacular view of a sketchy-looking guy that was looking in her direction. His red-on-black eyes sent alive bolts of lightning through her skin, wanting to touch their skin together.

In spite of herself, Marie looked at the stranger again, and this time, she made sure to smile back at him. He looked as if he were daring her to walk over to.

"Damn him," Marie murmured, staggering forward.


End file.
